


Fancy a Shag?

by PinetreeVillain



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinetreeVillain/pseuds/PinetreeVillain
Summary: Anything goes if you’re wasted enough.And Hyde plans to get absolutely DESTROYED tonight.
Relationships: Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Edward Hyde/Dr. Robert Lanyon
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	Fancy a Shag?

**Author's Note:**

> If you want something done, you’ve gotta do it yourself.

Hyde, the soberest of the two (which really wasn’t saying all that much), has the coordination to get them into a relatively empty alley just behind the bar. It smelled the least like hot garbage and piss. The stones were still slick from the rain earlier that evening and it really made navigating a challenge considering how drunk Lanyon was (this wouldn’t typically be an issue, Hyde’s had more than his fair share of drunkards hanging off his shoulder, but Lanyon is quite tall and he’s got a firm hold of Hyde’s shoulder and cloak which doesn’t help their current balance deficiency). 

Regardless of terrain, Hyde looks enthusiastically for something flat or resembling and is not disappointed. 

Lanyon attempts to slur something intelligible but Hyde doesn’t really care. Instead, Hyde backs him into the nearest wall and gets to work. 

“Whoa!” Lanyon jumps when Hyde grabs a handful of his backside. He fumbles a hand to Edward’s wrist and pushes. “Watch it...”

“Don’t be stiff,” Hyde croons, running his other hand over his chest. “Just relax, live a little.” 

When Lanyon doesn’t answer, his expression obscured in the dark, Hyde slides his hands down Lanyon’s arms until he has both his wrists in his smaller hands. 

“C’mon, hunny,” Edward purrs, laying it on thick. He guides the good doctor’s hands to his waist, holding them there. “You work so _hard_ , don’t you want to have something nice?” 

Hyde presses saccharine little kisses along Lanyon’s jawline, partly because he’s getting impatient (partly because it’s all he can reach) and partly because he figures that’s the sort of thing Lanyon _likes_ and whatever gets the ball rolling faster, right? 

He is right, because as Hyde rises to his toes, starts licking the corner of his mouth, Lanyon’s hands slide from his waist and slowly, slowly, passed his hips to grab and squeeze the small swell of his ass. Hyde laughs against his mouth and he reaches up enthusiastically to pull Lanyon down by his cravat. 

They snog for a good while in the alley, moaning and panting. It gets hot and dirty fast, Hyde’s hands are roaming and grabbing every reachable part. Lanyon just clutches him tightly and kisses him harder, more intensely until Hyde’s practically bent backwards. Hyde has the lead for a good chunk of it until Lanyon licks into his mouth like he owns it. Hyde arches his back until it’s as tense as a piano wire and he moans. Lanyon eagerly shoves a leg between Edward’s and he grinds down on it like it’s the only thing holding him up. 

“ _Oh,_ ” Hyde sighs, completely wrapped up in the friction and the tightness of his pants. “If I may, sir-“ Lanyon responds to the honorific _exactly_ like Hyde hoped he would, “-I do believe a good back-alley shag is in order.”

Lanyon’s response to that was to make a weird noise, something that was probably meant to be a snort of awkward laughter. He sways against the wall awkwardly on one leg because Hyde was perched like a rider on the other one. Hyde can hear the slurred excuses coming. 

“That’s hardly proper,” Lanyon grouses, the first coherent thing he’s said since Hyde suggested they “take it outside.” He looks like he’s trying to mean it, but his hands are still on Hyde, feeling the gyration of his hips. 

“No one’s watching,” Hyde insists, thinking explicitly of the shadow on the shiny stones. “What’s the harm? It’s just us.” 

While Lanyon spends several brain cells thinking about it, Hyde draws his hands up his neck, combing his fingers through the short curly hair at the back of his head. He thinks about the noise Jekyll made when Lanyon put a hand on Edward’s thigh; something distressed, something shocked, something _desperate_. 

Hyde loves thinking about how ravenous Jekyll is, how Jekyll likes to pretend he isn’t. Oh the _things_ he’s seen, the things he’s made _Henry_ see. 

Making him watch will be more exciting than actually doing it. 

Well, maybe not. The glazed want in Lanyon’s eyes is familiar to Hyde and exactly what he wants. After all, seducing good men to sinful pleasures is his speciality. 

Edward dismounts, drawing his hands down Lanyon’s shoulders, chest, lower as he drops to his knees (or knee, rather, he’s not exactly Long). He slips an arm snuggly around Lanyon’s still extended thigh and he presses his face into the hard, hot, shape of his dick. Lanyon’s hand grabs instantly to his hair. Hyde takes that as invitation to begin mouthing at him through his pants. 

“W-wait...” Lanyon stammers out. 

‘Stop.’ Comes Jekyll’s voice, right in his head, hard. 

Hyde, conflicted by Lanyon’s request and his primal need to do the opposite of what Jekyll wants, pulls away but leaves his hands on Lanyon’s thighs. He looks up at him patiently, fingering the seam of his pants. 

“I don’t...” Lanyon’s expression pinches oddly. He blinks rapidly, evidently trying to clear his own alcohol addled brain. “Haha? I don’t even know your name.”

“Right back at ya, big guy.” And big he is, Hyde knows how it is with tall men. “So what? Don’t you want that? The freedom of anonymity. Names are too familiar, too _intimate_. That’s the problem with you people, you need to know everything. There’s no privacy anymore. Why can’t men just enjoy sex these days. You always have to know their name. Once you know their name they have a personality, and emotions and then it’s a _mess_. I like it like this. No strings attached. Just nice, simple, straight forward, hot, wild sex.

“Is it so wrong to want a night of freedom? To indulge in what you rarely ever allow yourself? Doesn’t it exhilarate you?” 

Lanyon’s eyes close in concentration. It can’t be an easy thing through all the alcohol his brain cells are probably swimming in, but that’s fine. He should be easier this way. More time to persuade, butter him up. 

“There’s no harm, it’s just us, handsome.” Hyde offers his least predatory smile and his best bedroom eyes. “I know you want to. Hm? What can I say to make you feel better.” 

Jekyll makes a noise of disgust somewhere to his left. 

Lanyon straightens, pulling his leg back to proper position so he’s towering over Hyde where he’s still on his knees. He can’t go anywhere, not with his back against the wall as it is and Hyde right in front of him. He looks down at Hyde, ever so thoughtful for a man absolutely shitfaced. 

“Tell me your name,” He finally says. 

Hyde doesn’t respond immediately. He mostly wants to roll his eyes, he should have figured Lanyon would be stuffy and gentlemanly about even _this_. But he doesn’t. That’s not the impression he wants to give and the last thing he wants to do is turn Lanyon off by giving him attitude. 

Yeah, Hyde can read people too, it’s not _all_ Jekyll. He just _chooses_ not to use it. Most of the time. 

Hyde thinks hard anyway, but doesn’t have to think for long. The idea’s been at the back of his mind ever since Lanyon made a passing comment about it over their 4th glass. 

No sooner does the idea cross his mind does Hyde’s shadow come clean off the wall and Jekyll jerks like a broken steam engine into a tangible shape. He looks possessed with hands outstretched and his teeth bared like an animal as he spits “Don’t you dare-!”

Hyde smiles, both charming and insidious. With too many teeth and unnaturally bright eyes, he says, “Henry.” 

The change in Lanyon’s face is imperceptible, but there’s a change. Hyde _is_ quite good at reading people (or it might just be that he’s good at reading Lanyon after all this time, but he’d never admit to that). There’s the barest little flutter of his eyelashes, this moment of comprehension, imperceptible, but interested. 

Lanyon grabs Edward’s hands and pulls him to his feet. Hyde hardly has time to parse through that before he’s pulled bodily against Lanyon and kissed breathless. He kisses him until he’s gasping for air, and Lanyon takes just a few strides forward. Hyde scrambles to back up without tripping, and then his knees hit the back of a storage crate. Lanyon’s pressing him down into it before he can do much else and the weight of having another body on top of his, pressing down in all the right places, makes him moan wantonly into the other man’s mouth like he’s starved. 

Hyde fidgets just a bit until the fabric of his cloak is stretched across the crates like a blanket. 

They don’t waste anymore time. 

Seated comfortably, Hyde reaches a hand up to Lanyon’s cravat, pulling him down to continue snogging his face off while spreading his legs invitingly like any of the sluts and prostitutes he’s had the pleasure of fucking or being fucked by. Tonight, as he observes Henry Jekyll’s severe and morbidly transfixed face cast in harsh shadows over Lanyon’s shoulder, Hyde plans to get utterly fucked within an inch of his life by Henry’s best friend’s huge cock. 

Hyde makes a show of unbuttoning his waist coat, pulling buttons a part with flicks of his wrist before he lets it slide off his shoulders. His shirt comes off much the same way. Edward runs a hand down the pale expanse of his chest, drawing Lanyon’s eyes further down his body. He doesn’t reach his trousers before Lanyon beats him to it. With surprisingly skilled hands, the good doctor unbuttons Hyde’s pants and slips a hand in completely unprompted, wrapping warm around his dripping dick. Edward hums, bites his lip and basks in the sensation. 

Hyde leans back, showing off the vulnerable skin of his neck for Lanyon to bend and suck on, and he wonders idly just how many times Lanyon has done this. The thought is delightfully wicked and it makes Edward smile and hum as Lanyon puts bruises on his throat. Hyde thinks of all the _other_ people Lanyon’s done this to. It’s had to be dozens, no way could he be this good on 0 experience. The list of things Hyde and Jekyll know about Lanyon has been growing exponentially in this evening alone, and Hyde can’t say that he completely hates that. In a single night they know that Lanyon’s frequented a bar or two in Soho, he is absolutely capable of flirting and seducing as well as knocking back a frankly outrageous amount of absinthe (which Jekyll _feels_ like he already knew for some reason), capable of basic motor skills while inebriated, he’s also quite good with his hands (Hyde has a hand wrapped around his wrist, encouraging Robert as much as possible), and, perhaps the best part, packing an absolutely magnificent cock. 

Hyde figures he does, he _did_ have his mouth all over the damn thing. 

Lanyon starts to move down, dragging his teeth and tongue over Hyde’s collarbone. Hyde cards an inviting hand into his hair, mouth dropping open in a breathy sigh when Lanyon takes a nipple into his hot mouth. 

“You’re really good at this,” Edward sighs. He watches Lanyon come off his chest with a pop before he finally dips down to his pants. Hyde hums delightedly, eagerly watching Lanyon slide lower, and lower, and lower until he’s in nearly the same position as Hyde was just a few minutes before. His long nose is cold where it drags along his hip bones, pants sliding down his hips and catching on his thighs. Edward wiggles a little to help him get his pants around the curve of his ass until they snag on his shoes. 

Lanyon slows nearly to a stop. He runs his dark hands over the pale length of Hyde’s thighs, eyes taking in every inch of Hyde’s exposed body. Hyde usually doesn’t mind being stared at (they’re being watched right now for Heaven’s sake, Hyde’s always being watched) but the way Lanyon does it makes Edward squirm uncomfortably. The vacancy in his eyes is unsettling and Hyde thinks he’s dead for a second. 

“Still with me?” Hyde nudges him with his foot, a motion made almost ineffective by his own trousers wrapped around his ankles. Lanyon’s eyes finally flicker from their unfocused staring contest with his dick to meet Hyde’s green eyes. 

“What are you waiting for?” Hyde goads, sucking hotly on his own fingers. 

“You’re not ready,” Lanyon states, voice a little more clear than Hyde would prefer but they’ve already made it this far (However, Lanyon does seems the sort to cut sex short even after all the time and effort it takes to get ready for it). 

That aside; Hyde takes his fingers out of his mouth, dripping and shining with his own spit. He props his leg up on the crate, twists his hips to give Lanyon a good view, and he sinks two fingers into himself easily. Hyde’s quite good at this, for himself and others, so he knows what he can take. Two fingers isn’t shit, Hyde gets fucked enough that he likes the stretch more than he likes the easy entrance, but he can’t help but wonder giddily just how much Lanyon’s going to stretch him. He needs to get a grip, he hasn’t even _seen_ the fucking thing yet and he’s already drooling all over it. 

So he works two fingers, then three, and while he does it, he watches Lanyon’s hands start working on his own trousers, his attention fixed open-mouthed on Hyde’s fingers as they scissor in and out of his own hole. Hyde watches Lanyon pull his cock out and yes. Yes, that’ll do. That will do absolutely wonderfully. 

Lanyon wraps his hand around his cock and fists himself while he watches. His lips part in that way Hyde won’t admit he likes seeing. 

Hyde scissors his fingers and makes one last dig for his prostate before he pulls his fingers out. They’re still slick, from his spit and from his ass, so he wraps them around his red cock and he gives it a few tight, delicious pulls, eyes rolling back into his head, moaning, before he lifts his other leg off the ground and wraps it around Lanyon’s hips. He crooks his knee insistently until Lanyon comes forward and his cock slips from his fingers so it lies heavy on the soft skin between his thigh and groin. Hyde exhales heavily when Lanyon starts to rub his cock along Hyde’s, skin hot and wet but not wet enough. 

Three fingers or no, going in dry is not in Hyde’s books. Saliva’s not going to be enough, so Hyde swipes his hands over his waist coat and jacket pockets before he remembers it’s in his pants. He has to sit up to get it, hands finding the tin at the same time Lanyon’s lips find his. Not what he meant but whatever. He lets Lanyon suck in his tongue and slide their dicks together for a few more seconds before he leans back and unscrews the lid. It’s petroleum jelly Jekyll uses for burns.

Hyde obviously doesn’t use it for that. 

Lanyon watches Hyde as he gets two generous fingers of it and then proceed to rub it into his cock. He uses _both hands_ to get Lanyon’s cock completely slick, not because he needs to but because he really wants to. He thumbs hard over the head with one hand and rubs over a vein with the other and Lanyon’s head tilts back and he groans. It’s a pretty good sound, but Hyde’s sure he can be louder. 

When he’s done he leans back fully this time, a hand on Lanyon’s shoulder and he waits. 

He doesn’t wait long. 

Lanyon’s head presses against Hyde’s slick hole and Hyde’s dick jumps. The taller man presses a little harder before he pulls his hips back and pushes in too quickly and yet far too slow. The slide isn’t rushed but it doesn’t stop and the muscles in Hyde’s legs tense and flex and Edward does everything he can not to come. He feels every inch of it as it fills him up. He drops flat on the storage crate with a high moan when Lanyon finally, _finally_ bottoms out. His hips are hot against the now chilled skin of his ass. 

It feels...

So good. 

It’s so good that Hyde’s breathless. 

He can’t stand Lanyon but _god_ does he have a fine dick. It’s stretching him wide and tight and it’s so good. The stretch burns so deliciously, he could stay like this for _hours_. It makes his toes curl inside his shoes.

He’s biting his lips so hard that he tastes copper on his tongue when Lanyon finally starts moving. 

It’s a little slow at first, just the first few thrusts, but once Lanyon gets the hang of it, he picks up the speed. Hyde goes limp and tight all at once, body jerking with Lanyon’s hips. He moans and hums and sighs through it, blissful and so delighted. It feels good. He wasn’t expecting it to feel this good to be honest, but Lanyon, one hand gripping Edward’s thigh for leverage to pull him onto his dick when he thrusts in, hits his prostate every other thrust making stars and hearts explode behind Hyde’s eyelids. It’s a burning slide of hot stimulus and by God does it feel good. 

It proceeds, Lanyon thrusting into him like the drunk he is, and Hyde spread out on the crate, arms up behind his head, honest to god _lounging_ as he’s fucked very well on a very nice cock. 

So the alleyway, foggy, humid, and dark and wet, fills with the wet slap of skin on skin, a cock making itself at home in a tight pink ass, two men panting and groaning softly as they share air between them. There’s sweat dripping down his thighs and the specter in the alleyway has been horrifyingly quiet. Hyde doesn’t need to look to know what Jekyll’s feeling. He can feel it in his guts, in their shared mind. Jekyll’s not that complicated, he’s just a man after all. 

While Hyde lies languid and encouraging for Lanyon to fuck into, Jekyll watches in horrified amazement like a red ghost. He’s so enraptured, completely still in the alley, shadowless as a shadow is, and all he can focus on are the sexual grunts of his best friend fucking into his alter ego. It’s something like a nightmare, but a nightmare that feels good and _that_ scares Jekyll more than anything. 

Hyde, he’s fucking _Hyde_ , and he doesn’t know it, he doesn’t even _know it_. He doesn’t know that he’s fucking a man he hates because he’s never even met him, he doesn’t _know_ what he looks like, what he sounds like, not like _Jekyll does_ and it sets his whole intangible body on fire as Jekyll watches the man he’s known for most of his life fuck someone else the way _he’s_ always wanted to be fucked. And before Jekyll can really understand just how unfair it all is, how absolutely cruel this is of Hyde (to play with not only Jekyll’s terrible emotions, but Lanyon’s too for no reason other than to spite Jekyll), Lanyon groans the loudest he has all night, hips working harder into Hyde’s sloppy hole, and he says, “Henry.”

Hyde feels the satisfaction rest so solidly in his gut when Jekyll moans like the tortured soul he is, the spirit’s hands covering his face in horror and shame and Hyde feels arousal all the way down to his toes. It feels so absolutely divine, that Hyde sits up to wrap an arm around Lanyon’s shoulders, arms shaking from pleasure and the strain of holding himself up. He bites Lanyon’s ear, eyes locked with Jekyll’s through the specter’s fingers, and he begs with hypocrisy, “Say it again.” 

And he does. Poor Robert Lanyon, drunk on sex and So Much Alcohol, says Jekyll’s name again, and again, like a soft little mantra as he fucks into Hyde harder and faster. Hyde holds into Lanyon now, vision spotty with ecstasy as his orgasm approaches faster and faster. He holds on for dear life because this might be the best sex he’s ever had, fucking Jekyll’s best friend right in front of him and watching him writhe while Hyde gets his brains fucked out through his ears. He mutters shaking and stuttering encouragements into Lanyon’s ear, eyes on Jekyll as he tells him just how _good_ his big cock feels riding in and out of him, stretching his asshole so wide and _good, you’re so good, I’m almost there, fuck me harder please, you feel so good, fuck me, fuck me_. 

Hyde comes when Lanyon hits his prostate again and grinds, coming hot like lava inside of him. He throws his head back and screams voicelessly, eyes rolled so far back it’s just white and truly the most blissed out look on his face he’s ever had since he first got fucked Day 2 of freedom. He clenches down as hard as he can on Lanyon, wanting to feel the ghost of his dick even when he’s not in control anymore. He wants Jekyll to feel it more than anything. 

He can feel Lanyon’s dick twitch against his walls. Lanyon is completely buried in Hyde’s neck and hair, fingers digging bruises into his hip and thighs as he fucks him through his orgasm, riding out the waves with stuttering hips that tremble as Hyde clenches so deliciously around him, milking his cock dry. 

When it’s over, it’s just the drip of the alley pipes, wildly beating hearts, and frantic breathing as they both try to get a hold of themselves. 

When Hyde opens his eyes, Jekyll is no longer in the alley. That’s fine. 

Hyde unclenches his first from Lanyon’s coat, knuckles stiff from his tightly he’d been holding on. He flexes his fingers while Lanyon shakily rises off of him. Hyde only flinches a little when he pulls out, leaving his asshole gaping and leaking. Hyde fixes his attention on the cum that’s all over his stomach. He briefly considers leaving the mess for Jekyll to clean in the morning, but he had other plans for the night and he doesn’t really fancy walking around with a tacky shirt all night. That would be uncomfortable and a little gross. 

Besides, he’s got plenty of neck decor for Jekyll to remember by in the morning. 

He pulls a hanky out of his waist coat pocket and cleans up the mess on his chest and, after further consideration, wipes the jizz off his ass too. 

By the time he goes to pull his trousers back up, Lanyon has already tucked himself back in and already begun clumsily readjusting his rumpled clothes. He’s done nothing for his hair, probably because he hasn’t noticed, and Hyde can’t help but snort softly. He’ll let him walk home like that. It’s the most he can do.

**Author's Note:**

> The file name for this consisted of “ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” and nothing else

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Familiar Stranger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531737) by [AviaToons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AviaToons/pseuds/AviaToons)




End file.
